Holiday Experiences
by moroitsubasa
Summary: Previously Aren't I Your Friend?. Satoshi had never celebrated the holidays and now, thanks to Daisuke, he ends up having to experience them all. The question is will he enjoy them enough to want to them a second time?
1. Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own DNAngel or anything to do with it. I only have the first three volumes, ok?

Warnings: None, unless you count some AU.

Characters: Niwa Daisuke and Hiwatari-Hikari Satoshi

Summary: It's Christmas and Satoshi has to go to work, though it doesn't bother him one bit. He'd never attended Azumano No. 2 Jr. High, thus never met anyone there (for story purposes, let's pretend Dark and Krad don't exist). However, a certain redhead shows up unexpectedly and… One-shot, AU. SatoDai if you squint reaaaaaly hard.

----

December 25th, Christmas: a time to stay at home and enjoy the presence of friends and family--to calm down and relax in the serenity--to slow down, gain one's bearings, and just find one's footing in a long, winter break.

'_Yeah, right_.' Satoshi almost rolled his eyes, not bothering to even finish reading the card. There was no point to it. It was all soft, loving, boring, and irrelevant. He took another glance at the signature and decided not to try to guess what it really said before turning back to a stack of paperwork on is desk. Yes, it was Christmas morning, and yes, he was at work. But it didn't really matter anyway; there was no friends or family to go home to. Not that he'd want to call his apartment a home. Even after inheriting the Hikari fortune, he still lived in the small, sterile space and worked himself do death. He'd inherit it, yes, but he had no intention of using the money, even now in his early 20s. It was a matter of principal and pride.

He closed his blue eyes softly, reassuring the small part of his mind that sought out others that he didn't care; he didn't want to be around people anyway, or animals, for that matter. His hand reached and pushed thin glasses further up the bridge of his nose, glad of the peace and quiet of the otherwise empty office. He'd figured no one else would be here on such a special holiday, but he could be wrong. This fact was proven when a door opened then closed.

"Ah? Hiwatari-kun?" the startled voice of one of his coworkers entered his ears and he didn't need to look up to know who it was. A male a little shorter and less than a year younger than himself with spiky red hair and matching eyes.

"Good morning, Niwa," the words were spoken in his usual near monotone as he shuffled through the papers, making sure he was assigned only the work that should be his and no other's.

The sound of a chair rolling and a thump. Niwa Daisuke worked at a desk near his own, two rows up and one to the left. Satoshi could easily picture the young man dragging his chair over and sitting in it backwards, like he probably had. He saw it the night before at the office party. He had a terrible time trying to get his work done with all the noise.

"What are you doing here?" Daisuke was probably leaning forward with that smile on his face.

"One could ask you the same thing," he continued at the questioning sound and looked up at the confused face. Simple, simple Niwa. "I didn't expect to see you here on such a family-related holiday. Shouldn't you be at your mother's?"

"I need the overtime." Daisuke stated with a half-shrug, smiling almost as if he was genuinely happy to be spending Christmas at work with him. He had moved out of his mother's house almost immediately after graduating high school and sometimes seemed to barely scrape by with that college dorm of his. He told one of the coworkers--Saehara wasn't it?--this before. "This is the only time they'd schedule me, so here I am."

"I see." A stamp here, a signature there, one or two checkmarks…

"What about you?" Satoshi glanced up, raising a brow. "Shouldn't you be at home? I mean--you probably don't need to work. You're here almost everyday, y' know, and with that apartment… I mean, it doesn't cost _that_ much, does it?" Daisuke had brought Satoshi his paperwork once when he was sick. The first time he'd been sick in nearly 6 years and he was bedridden with an overnight cold. Weak. Weak, weak, weak, that's what he was.

By now, he was back to the paperwork. Stamp, sign, stamp, check, check, sign… "I had nothing better to do." The tone was a little more monotone than usual.

"What about your family?" The question leaked a bit with concern and Satoshi could feel Daisuke's eyes on him. Why would it matter to him, anyway?

"I don't have one, Niwa." Scribble a note, sign, check, check, read a bit…

"Oh… Well, couldn't you've spent some time with some friends?" Daisuke's voice seemed sad for Satoshi, almost like he was sorry for him. Satoshi almost let a blank stare answer that one, but when Daisuke stared back doggedly, he decided to vocalize a response.

"Do I seem to have many friends, Niwa?" Daisuke's heart almost broke. Satoshi had no one to spend Christmas with? That was awful, but not completely inconceivable. He had to admit, he had never seen Satoshi speak with anyone unless he had to, even then the exchanges were short and carried out in a very business-like manner. In fact, Daisuke may very well have been the only person with whom his conversations didn't terminate as soon as possible. Somehow, when he heard 'many', he knew Satoshi meant 'any'.

"Aren't I your friend?" Daisuke was almost surprised at the shred of hope he had in his voice.

That made Satoshi freeze for a moment. Him and Daisuke, friends? He'd never thought about that, and he was sure that Daisuke probably hadn't either. Could they even be considered friends? Satoshi had never started a conversation with the man and they never hung out or anything, but when he saw the look in Daisuke's eyes, he just couldn't stand to hurt his feelings. "Yes, I suppose you are."

That put a smile on his face and the redhead stood, swiveling his chair to put it back then paused. "Hiwatari-kun?" Satoshi glanced back up. "Listen, I'll be home for New Year's and I was wondering, y' know, if you don't have work--"

"Alright," he interrupted. Satoshi's head dropped a little as he adjusted his glasses, effectively hiding his face behind blue hair. He immediately resumed his work.

"Huh?" Confusion riddled Daisuke's voice and Satoshi didn't need to look up to know what his face would look like. He offered a reassurance.

"I'll be there."

"Ok," Satoshi could hear the smile and it filled him with a slight warmth. "Want a coffee? I'll get you one, if you want." Daisuke's hand sought the back of his neck.

A pause. "Thanks. That would be nice."

"Alright." The chair never did move, Daisuke simply sat across from the quiet man he'd known for only a few months, enjoying the peace, warmth, and company of a man he was proud to have as a friend.


	2. New Year's

AN: Thank you Lumi and Kristi, for being my patient betas.

It was cold. That much was obvious through the window when he was getting ready; it hadn't been a White Christmas, but the possibility still stood that they'd be snowed-in for New Year's. It was only more apparent as he trudged out his apartment to his car. As promised, he was going to the Niwa's for the Near Year's Eve party.

So here he was, out in the snow, under a street light, in a suit. He spent a half an hour trying to figure out what to wear (and, boy, did he feel like a girl doing that) so that he wouldn't offend them by being over- or under-dressed, so he decided based on his wardrobe. _"Let's see…suit, suit, tux, pajamas, suit…"_ It didn't help that he hadn't been to a party with people his own age since he was two.

And it was very cold.

After a minute to find the right key, and several more to clear the windows enough to see out of, he was off.

--

"Hiwatari-kun," Daisuke smiled in his holiday-colored sweater and comfy jeans as he opened the door, "You look nice."

"Thanks," he pushed his glasses further up his nose, a nervous habit he'd picked up since he started on the weak prescription. Instantly, his senses were overwhelmed with soft lighting and music blasting from _somewhere_ in the house. Everything about this place screamed "home", and everything about it made him that much less comfortable. In a corner there was a Christmas tree waiting to be taken down, there a glimpse of a red-haired woman in what he presumed to be the kitchen, on the couch an older man ('_Niwa's father?_') looking like he was about to be shouted at for taking three cookies at a time. This was a family event and Satoshi was anything but family, hell, Daisuke barely knew him.

"Why don't you sit down," Daisuke smiled again and Satoshi began to wonder if the boy had a facial disorder. "I'll grab you a drink."

"Ok." After some hesitation, he sat across from the elder man.

"Cookie?"

"… Sure." He took one from the plate, noticing that they were still warm, and quite delicious.

"So, you're one of Daisuke's friends?"

Friend… they had recently decided that he was one of his friends, and even that had been said to appease the boy, but Satoshi was beginning to doubt himself about that. Neither of them knew much about the other. "You could say that. I'm Hiwatari Satoshi."

"Oh, so you're 'Hiwatari-kun'," Satoshi met the man's gaze, "Daisuke's said quite a bit about you."

"He has?" He kept his voice level, though he was quite surprised. He was sure Daisuke hadn't had much of an opportunity to speak about him since Christmas, so that meant he had considered him his friend much longer—or, he'd at least noticed him for a while.

"Yeah. He said that you're a hard worker, that you don't talk much. He thinks you're lonely—"

"Eggnog ok, Hiwatari-kun?" Daisuke reappeared from the kitchen, carrying a drink for his friend and for himself.

"That's fine, Niwa-kun," the honorific was added on after a short pause. There were Niwas all over the house, there would need to be some way to tell them apart. Why Daisuke's smile chose to grow at that moment, he had no idea.

Niwa-kun and Niwa-san (wouldn't this get interesting later) carried on a conversation that Satoshi felt better listening to than contributing. As he began to sip at the drink, he noticed his choice of attire again and felt out of place. Again. The pair must have sensed something, because they both stopped talking and Daisuke proceeded to stare at him for a minute. "Come on," he urged with a smile.

"Huh?" For once, he allowed the confusion to set on his features.

"Come on," he chuckled as he repeated himself, a little more willing as he started up the stairs. The blue-eyed man followed him, not quite understanding why Niwa wanted him up the stairs or why he was so adamant about it, but he went anyway. "Here," Satoshi managed to catch what ever it was that flew at him before it hit him in the face, "It should fit you ok. You're a little taller than me, but…" he trailed off and Satoshi stared at the turtleneck.

"…What?"

The redhead popped out from inside the small closet. "What what? There's no way you're very comfortable wearing that."

"Niwa-kun, you don't have to—"

"You might as well keep it, it's too big for me, anyway." He muttered to himself after that. Something that sounded like "I don't know if I have any jeans that'll fit you. Why'd you have to be so tall?"

With a sigh, he began to peel off his clothes to slip the shirt on. He was right, he wasn't comfortable at all, but he still didn't have to give him his own shirt. Niwa had to still be high off the Holiday Spirit, or eggnog. "Or something."

"You say some—?" Satoshi watched as Daisuke turned a most interesting shade of red. "H—here!" The dark jeans were absolutely chucked at him. "I'll be right in the living room if you need me. 'K bye!"

Silly Niwa. Silly, silly, easily embarrassed Niwa-kun.

--

He came downstairs feeling less conspicuous. He was a little surprised how close he and the shorter boy were in sizes—he was almost a head taller than the guy—but it could have just been because Niwa preferred looser clothes.

Niwa-san (he decided he'd have to learn his first name for sanity purposes) gave him a small smile as Satoshi camped out the couch again.

--

"Kosuke-san! Kosuke-san!" the red-haired lady bounced into the room and turned on the TV, "It's almost time!"

"Calm down, Emiko-san."

Satoshi glanced at the clock. 11:27pm. Oh yeah, it was _definitely_ almost time.

"Kyuu kyuu!"

"Ma'am! Ma'am! The-the-the-the cookies!"

"OMIGOSH!"

"Uh…"

"Now we get to eat some burned stuff."

"E—Emiko-san!"

"KYUU!"

"Dad! You're sitting on Wyth!"

"Kyuu kyuu!"

"Oh, sorry."

Quietly, Satoshi moved from the wall to the dining room. As he sat, he breathed a slight sigh of relief. It was a bit calmer here.

"I'm sorry," Daisuke's voice next to him surprised him, but he didn't let it show. "Parties aren't really your thing, are they?"

"A lot of things aren't 'really my thing', Niwa-kun." He fixed his glasses with a finger, glancing at the red-eyed boy, who looked a little more down than he had a few seconds ago. "But I'm glad you invited me." He perked up again, seeming interested. "Maybe… we could this kind of thing again, some time."

After a short lapse, Niwa-kun smiled. "Yeah, that'd be great." They sat in a comfortable silence for what seemed to be forever before the younger boy spoke up again. "You're going to stay up and watch the sunrise with us, right?"

"Yeah," Satoshi voiced it as a question, wondering exactly where Daisuke was getting with this.

"And you'll stay long enough to eat soba and watch _Kohaku Uta Gassen_ and I had my mom make you an osechi ryori and we'll play cards and—!"

"Niwa-kun?"

"—fly kites and—yes?"

"You're babbling."

"Sorry," again with the blushing, what was there to be so embarrassed about? "What I'm trying to say is—well, this is a Year-Forgetting party. It's ok, y' know, to let loose and smile once in a while, ok?"

Satoshi considered this for a moment before he reached up, removed his glasses, and covered his eyes with his hand. "Niwa-kun."

"Yes?"

They swore the whole house heard his face creak as his lips quirked into something that could pass as a grin. "You're an idiot."

Daisuke laughed as he stood. "I know. Want me to get you some wine?"

"That'd be great."


	3. Chinese New Year

AN: That's right, Dark and Krad do exist. A lot of htis chapter has a strong base in the Strange/Scary Foreigner belief in Japan. I almost included the All-Americans-Carry-Guns thing, but I decided to let it pass just this once. Maybe in the next chapter.

* * *

"You know, you didn't have to do this." 

"I want to, Niwa-kun. Besides, I can't pay you back otherwise."

"You don't have to throw a party for me."

"You invited me to your family's. I'm inviting you to mine. Here we are."

"You could have just sent a card or something. This really isn't necessary."

"Niwa, if I had offered you money, you wouldn't have taken it." Satoshi finally found his keys and pulled them from his bag to unlock the door to his apartment, letting that settle the argument. It was ridiculous, he figured, how humble and modest Daisuke was. It made him want to ram his head into the wall. He swung the door open and flipped on the lights, revealing an entrance with two pairs of slippers, the second of which was bought the day before for his guest, and a side table connecting to a stark room. "Make yourself at ho–"

"Satoshi," a stern voice from a little ways down the hall interrupted the blue-eyed man's welcome as a blonde wearing a white overcoat walked briskly toward the pair, dragging some poor man behind him. "This man says that you ordered these," the man's golden eyes flashed as he held up two bottles of liquor, "I told him it was impossible, you don't even drink. However, he _insisted_–"

"Hikari-san, I did. Those are mine. May I have them now?" Satoshi made sure to use short sentences. He didn't want to injure his neighbor. The stillness seeped through the entire complex, unnerving everyone within a five-mile radius.

"I think you broke him, Hiwatari-kun."

"You… Hiwatari Satoshi, the man who hasn't even _heard_ of fun, ordered wine?" Satoshi's response was a simple nod, followed by another short silence. "This wouldn't happen to be a party now, would it?"

"Yes, it is." The blunette silently prayed to whatever deity would listen that the conversation wasn't going where he thought it was. He was, after all, planning to spend this Chinese New Year's with just Daisuke. If more people came, he'd probably run out of food.

Krad popped into the apartment for a moment, gaze sweeping across what he could see from the doorway, while Daisuke contented himself with staying out of the conversation and out of the way. "You can't be serious. One bag of chips." Krad pulled out of the empty place to stare at Satoshi. "I won't allow this. You–" the white-clothed man pointed at Daisuke, who jumped from the sudden change of topic "–What's your name?"

"Huh? Oh, um–My name is Niwa Daisuke. I am very pleased to meet you." And like the good, polite Japanese man he was, he gave a proper bow.

"Good, Niwa." Hikari, being the foreigner whose parents emigrated from Japan and he returned, didn't feel like it. Instead, he thought it quite proper to grab the red-head's hand and drag him away.

"Hikari-san." No response. Satoshi knew these Americans and knew that keeping to his customs would just get him walked over. "Krad, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

The man paused and looked at Satoshi as if the answer was obvious. "You don't know how to do parties, Satoshi. You and Niwa are coming to mine. Let's go." Since fighting the man wasn't worth it, Satoshi simply locked up his apartment and followed obediently.

--

Satoshi sat on the couch. Great. Everything was going just swell. First, Niwa-kun had to go and invite him to a New Year's party. Then, he had to go and try to return the favor. Then, that Hikari-san had to go and insult him, steal his guest, and be an ass about it. Oh yeah, life was perfect, and it was getting better.

"Krad, I'm home!"

"Someone shoot me now," Satoshi muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. If that was who he thought it was, things weren't going to go well.

"About time. Where've you been?" The question was half-rhetorical, but was answered anyway.

"It's snowing, Krad! Traffic doesn't move in the snow," an over-hyped voice replied as Krad helped the purple-haired man as he removed his coat, somehow managing to gesture wildly in the process.

"What traffic?" The blonde took the jacket and left to hang it in the closet. Satoshi could faintly smell cookies.

"What the– Who let _that_ in here?" Great, Dark found him. Let the fun begin.

"This 'that' has a name, Mousey."

"Ok fine, who let Creepy Bastard in here?" Oh yes, that was _so_ much better than "that".

"I did," Krad replied, not seeing what all the fuss was about. Honestly, so the guy was a little quiet and anti-social. It wasn't like Krad wasn't on a regular basis. Besides, Satoshi didn't look half-bad. Why he and Dark couldn't get along was beyond his comprehension. "It's better than the puppy you tried to give me for Christmas. Almost got us evicted," the last part was muttered from his new spot in the kitchen area.

"But _why_?" the man was whining and Satoshi just tried to relieve his headache by rubbing various pressure points on his skull.

"Because his friend probably shouldn't be subjected to a Hiwatari Celebration." Right on cue, Daisuke walked out of the kitchen, jumped in surprise again, and again launched into the programmed politeness that had been drilled into his skull since day one.

"How do you do? My name is Niwa Daisuke. I am pleased to meet you."

"Name's Dark Mousey," Daisuke looked up, coming out of his bow, to find a hand stuck in his face. He shook it awkwardly.

"Good!" Dark clapped loudly before strutting into the kitchen. "Now, where's the food?"

"Don't ask me. It was your turn to arrange it."

Daisuke sat next to Satoshi on the couch and watched the news with him. And how very uninteresting it was at the moment. "They sure are interesting people," he chose his words carefully.

_"You know I can't cook!"_

"They're foreigners. Americans, I think," Satoshi responded almost mechanically. A short silence prevailed between the duo.

_"That's why they have catering."_

_"What if I didn't have the money for that?"_

"Americans sure are noisy," Daisuke commented. Satoshi shrugged in agreement, quietly accepting and storing away the data for future reference. If he ever had a need to scare the red-head, all he had to do was find some foreigners. When, how, and if he would ever use this information, he would never know.

_"Then you could have bought food, and I would have cooked it."_

_"Oh."_

_"Idiot."_

--

It only took a few minutes for Dark to convince Krad to go shopping with him, and only two more for them to be ready to go and leave the apartment, leaving Daisuke and Satoshi there by themselves.

"_In other news, the annual Azumano Chinese New Year parade is finally under way. Let's take a look, shall we? Satoh-san?"_

"_Good evening, Tanaka-san, and good evening, Azumano. As you can see, the parade has started and the sidewalks are filled…."_

"Hiwatari-kun?"

"Yes, Niwa-kun?"

Another short silence. "It's really quiet now."

"A little unnerving, isn't it?"

"Yes," the absolute resolution in his voice was somehow eerie to the blue-haired man, "It is."

No one spoke for another few minutes, before Daisuke voiced an opinion of his: "They could have at least offered us something to eat."

"That's Americans for you."

"Americans scare me."

"_Oh, here comes the duck float. Don't you just love ducks?"_

"_Hi mom!"_

--

"Krad, open the door for me, would ya?" Daisuke and Satoshi could hear the voices of their returning hosts through the door, interrupting the engaging conversation they were having on radishes.

"I can't, Dark. I have full hands. Open it yourself."

"But my hands are full, too," Satoshi wondered vaguely if Dark whined this much on a regular basis, or if it was just a holiday special.

"Then put the bags down for a minute."

"Why won't you?"

"Dark, if I have to tell you one more time–"

"Fine! I'll do it. Whatever." Hardly a second passed before the door flew open and Dark lowered his foot, picked up the keys with his toes through his sock, hooked the ring on a finger, and replaced his foot in his shoe.

"That was gross." The blond made a face.

"There are worse things I can do with my feet than opening doors," Dark turned away from Krad and addressed the men on the couch. "You two, help us put the groceries away."

Satoshi leaned back and to the side enough to see Dark with both eyes. "Why put it away if we're just going to eat it tonight anyway?"

Dark knew he had a point, but damned if he'd let Satoshi know. Instead, he settled on sulking to the kitchen. "Shut up, Creepy."

Krad, however, was not quite ready to leave his guests as he raised a skeptical eyebrow at the pair. "You guys just sat there the whole time? Didn't get anything to eat or anything?"

"Were we supposed to?" Daisuke asked, having turned around to face the scary people.

"Help yourselves any time," the blonde said as if it was obvious. "It's not like I care if you raid the fridge. So long as it's not empty when I get home, I don't care."

A second before they could smell the smoke, Dark cried out: "Krad, get in here and help me!"

"Dark!" The pale man abandoned his bags on the floor. "How many times to I have to tell you not to play with the stove?"

--

"I still want to know how you managed to burn water."

"I said I was sorry!"

"You're still not allowed in the kitchen."

"But Kraaad," Dark whined as he was shoved out of the room.

"No," the blonde said sternly, turning away to prepare an unburnt dinner. Muttering to himself, Dark glanced around before deciding to plop down on the low table in front of Daisuke and Satoshi.

"Creepy," he acknowledged.

"Mousey."

Dark snorted. "So, Dai-chan," Daisuke flushed at the nickname, "How'd you manage to get stuck with Creepy?"

"Oh! I–uh. We work together." The red-head silently cursed himself not to have the foresight to have a business card on him.

"Oh, what do you do?" Dark seemed interested as he leaned in a little.

"I, well," Daisuke was leaning back now, trying to maintain some form of comfortable space between himself and the tan man. "I'm a secretary."

"Creepy's?"

"No, no, more like the whole office's. I file and deliver things." Daisuke flushed even brighter as Dark leaned in even closer.

"Isn't that boring?"

"Uh…" _Oh God, oh God, oh God, he's not going to kiss me, is he? Gah! He's only two inches away._

"Niwa! Get in here and help me for a minute," the salvation that happened to come in the form of Krad's voice came from the kitchen.

"Coming!" Daisuke scrambled to leave the uncomfortable situation on the couch to do whatever it was Krad wanted. "Yes?"

"Make sure nothing burns while I finish this up, ok?" The blond didn't glance up from whatever he was doing, but apparently it involved several forms of meat and a very sharp knife. Daisuke chose not to ask and put his full concentration on the various things on the stove.

Krad glanced over his shoulder to catch the sight of a very serious-looking Niwa utterly fixated on the four items on the stove. _Cute_.

--

"Hey, Krad?" The moment Dark's head popped through the door, the broiling fish caught fire.

"**OUT!**"

The purple-eyed man deflated and left to sulk on the couch.

"A little accident-prone, aren't we, Mousey."

"Shut up, Creepy."

"Ah! Hikari-san, the fire's not going out!"

"Damn it, I can't help right now."

"Hiwatari-kun!"

"Coming." Satoshi stood and made his way into the kitchen, Dark staring after him for a moment. Finally, he picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels.

--

"Dark."

"Yeah?"

"Are you aware that you're watching fishing?"

"Shut up," he snapped at his cat-eyed roommate. "Nothing else is on."

Krad picked up the remote and instantly flipped to some sort of adventure movie. Apparently, a car had just blown up. "There. Now come on, it's time for dinner."

"Yay, food!"

--

Daisuke and Satoshi stared quietly. Krad nibbled calmly. Dark… well, Dark was shoving things in his mouth faster than either of the younger males thought was humanly possible. Finally, the second-youngest adjusted to the scariness that was his neighbor and began to put food on his own plate. "It's alright, Niwa-kun." Satoshi didn't have to look at the man to know he was hesitating, afraid that he'd eat something inedible. "Hikari-san's a very good cook. It's Dark you have to watch out for."

A garbled sound that was probably supposed to mean "shut up, Creepy" poured out of Dark's mouth as the man paused just long enough to glare before continuing his food-pillaging rampage. Daisuke, meanwhile, decided he could trust his co-worker and loaded himself up, drinks first. The purple-haired man paused to breathe, pointing his fork at Krad. "And you better eat more than that, you anorexic stick."

Krad pointedly grabbed a fortune cookie.

"You, too, Hiwatari-kun," Daisuke fumbled as the blue-eyed man stared at him questioningly, "I–I mean, you look a little thin and I thought that maybe you weren't eating enough, and–and I know you aren't poor or anything, so–"

"Niwa-kun."

"–I thought that maybe you're not eating because you think you're fat or something–"

"Niwa-kun."

"–But I want you to know that I don't think you're fat–"

"Niwa-kun."

"–and starving yourself isn't the answer!" Daisuke tearfully faced the embarrassed blunette. "Don't die, Hiwatari-kun!!"

"Niwa!" The world came to a screeching halt as one of the quietest, calmest, most sane men in the world raised his voice. Satoshi, on the other hand, was going to cut off the red-head's alcohol intake for the rest of the night, and–if he could help it–the rest of his life. "It's ok. I'm eating. I'm not going to die. You can stop crying now."

Daisuke sniffled. "Ok."

Unable to bear the cuteness, Satoshi went back for seconds, only to see Dark leering at him. "What?" Satoshi asked shortly, his mood ruined.

"He's got you soooo whipped."

"He does not."

"Does too." Then, Dark pushed an extra button by the high-pitched imitation of Satoshi: "Oh, Dai! Of course I'll eat, just for you, my love. I live just for you!"

"Mousey…" Satoshi ventured, lacking in emotion with his head down.

"Yes?" he returned sweetly.

"Stand still so I can kill you." Thus, the chase began.

"Hikari-san?" Daisuke asked as he watched the two run around the cramped apartment with almost unnatural agility.

"Yes, Niwa?"

"… They scare me."


	4. Valentine's Day

**AN:** This isn't as cute and fun as some of the other chapters, but I promise the next one will make up for it. Also, I have not abandoned _The Red Button_, I'm just stuck on making a certain someone's chapter not too retarded. All I can say is that I promised this character would be next; now I'll make two more promises: that chapter will be out by New Years, and I will do my best to get the next one from here out by then as well.

* * *

Daisuke arrived at work and already things were a mess. Various shades of pink, red, and white, not mention the lace, reminded the redhead very quickly what day it was: Valentine's Day. A day of love and joy and expressing affections to everyone you come by. Just the thought of it put a wider grin on his goofy face. Said grin disappeared when he noticed his best blue-haired friend wasn't at his desk. '_I wonder where Hiwatari-kun is. He's always here early._'

And he kept wondering for another half an hour before a sudden burst of feminine squeals coming from the direction of the front door tore him from his worried musings. He looked up to see what was going on, only to see the object of his concern completely surrounded by a horde of estrogen. Though it was nearly unnoticeable, Satoshi had his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he tried to cut through the unruly girls as quickly and politely as he could. Just because they were unhealthily obsessed was no reason for him to be rude.

Then, the red-eyed male caught the other's eyes. 'Help,' they said, 'I can't get rid of them.' He let his friend suffer a while longer while he thought up a plan. He could say dresses were on sale, but where would he find a dress in the middle of the office? Same went for make up and shoes. It hit him like a ton of bricks and Daisuke smiled to himself before he greeted Satoshi loud enough so the women could hear as well: "Good morning, Hiwatari-kun. How's that highly infectious skin condition coming along?"

And suddenly, there were no more girls.

Satoshi gave a quiet sigh that meant 'I thought they'd never leave' then addressed his savior. "Thank you, Niwa, but did you have to give me a disease?"

"How else was I supposed to get rid of them?" Satoshi shrugged a response. "Anyway, why are you so late? I was getting worried."

"They ambushed me outside the apartment," the absolute lack of emotion in Satoshi's face and voice unnerved Daisuke and sent goose bumps to accompany the sudden chill.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Niwa, it wasn't your–" He stopped suddenly, staring forward with an expression, though invisible to most people, Daisuke had never thought he'd see on the man's face. Abject horror left much to be desired. So he followed his gaze, wondering what could be so terrifying, only to fear for the blunette's desk as well. Chocolates, cards, gift baskets, presents, and even some odd things like animals and keys–to what, the guys preferred not to guess–more than covered the desk. Hid it, maybe; obscured it, definitely; broke it–3... 2... 1... Crash–oh yeah.

"Uh… Hiwatari-kun?"

"Yes, Niwa?"

"Does this happen every year?"

"Unfortunately, it does."

"… I'm sorry." And truly he was, since he had to suffer the same torture every year, and probably pay for the new desk as well.

"Me, too."

–

"Niwa-kun!" Daisuke perked up from the desk he was sharing with Satoshi today–the janitor said there'd be a new desk there by tomorrow–and glanced in the direction the voice came from.

"Harada-san!" Another silly smile was pasted onto his face and he thought he saw the blunette shake his head at him. "Good after–" SLAP!

"I _told_ you not to call me that! How am I supposed to know if you're talking to me or my sister!"

"S–sorry, Riku-san."

The apology placated her and she was, once again, the charming athletic girl the entire office knew. "Anyway, I got you something," a sly look settled on her face and her left hand came from behind her back, holding what seemed to be a wrapped chocolate heart. "Happy Valentine's Day, Niwa-kun!"

Compared to Daisuke's face, his hair could have been white. "Th–thank you, Ha–Riku-san. Wow!–I mean, this is great. Thank you so much!"

By this time, Riku was blushing as well, pleased to have made her friend–no matter how much the word killed her inside–happy. "I'm glad you like it." No one would have to know he was the only one to get a Valentine's present from her; no one had to know anything. She turned and offered a 'See ya' over her shoulder before returning to her duties.

–

"I envy you, Niwa." The words were so unexpected and sudden, Daisuke almost choked on his chocolate.

"Whu–why?" Satoshi's eyes traveled to the sweet and back to the redhead's face, and he read what the meaning probably was. Daisuke had gotten to receive his gift face to face; Satoshi never got to see exactly who gave what, or even thank them for it. "You shouldn't be jealous of me! I mean, you have so _many_ gifts and people who like you and stuff, and I only have one. I should be the jealous one, not you."

Satoshi adjusted his glasses and shook his head. "True, but none of mine matter."

Daisuke barely had the presence of mind to swallow before his mouth gaped open and his head tilted to the side. "Huh?"

"I don't know any of the people who gave me those, and they don't know me. They _think_ they know me, and that I know them. They think I see their gifts and feel touched and grateful… like you were with Harada." He stared at his mound of broken desk and displays of apparent love. "But all I see is a pile of wasted time, energy, and affections. All they want is to be noticed and I don't even care." He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, as if the answer to his dilemma would be written there, but all he saw was an over-flowery message in red ink: 'I love you, Hiwatari-kun.' He didn't want to think about how much trouble some girl went to in order to put the phrase there, how much trouble she was probably in, even if the chances of him seeing it were slim. "I'll probably just throw it all away when I get home if I don't get rid of it on the way."

By then, Daisuke had put his treat down on the desk and was playing with his hands as he mulled over the new information about his friend. "You shouldn't do that," he stated quietly, capturing Hiwatari's full attention. "You shouldn't trample their feelings like that. They care about you, and you're just throwing it all away like it's nothing."

"No they don't, Niwa," Satoshi continued just as silently, "They only think they do."

That pissed Daisuke off and set his face in a mild glare. He didn't know the blunette could be so pigheaded and unreasonable about something like this when all he had to do was pretend for a day, even if it was just to get them off his back. "Hiwatari-kun," his words were stern and disciplining, catching Satoshi off-guard. "Whether you think they do or not, or want them to or not, to them it's real. I know you don't want them to do this, but you can't do anything about it, either–"

"Niwa–

"So you should just–!"

"Niwa-kun, that's enough," something in the agitation in his voice made Daisuke stop and pay attention to the frustrated man, who couldn't help feeling relieved. Finally, Daisuke had stopped yelling at him. He felt stupid and wrong, like a child being disciplined for skipping school for the first time, and it hurt so bad. He didn't know, and he didn't particularly want to know why, but it did, and the whole thing was just so stupid. Slowly, Satoshi calmed himself down enough to change the subject. "Did something like that happen to you?"

Daisuke didn't respond. It was something he didn't want to admit to himself, that he had once pined after someone who had been a lot like Hiwatari in the past. He knew he was a lot like the fan girls he had helped his friend shake earlier, and it had struck a chord with him when Satoshi admitted he'd just blow them off.

There was a long period of silence as both boys settled themselves, quieting the thoughts in their minds.

"Niwa, I'm not going to lead them on. I don't want to give them illusions that I might care for them when I don't. I know what I'm doing is cold and morally wrong, but it's better than getting their hopes up and hurting them more in the end." Satoshi's hands moved to pick at the hem of his button-down shirt. "I won't throw them away where they'll find it, but I'm not going to keep them either. It's not right to lead them on like that. They might like me, but it's not _me_ they like."

And before Daisuke had the chance to ask him what he'd meant, the sapphire-eyed man had been called away.

–

Even as Daisuke helped Satoshi get his things out of the office, he still couldn't get over their previous conversation. He felt like he was hiding something, or trying to say something, and whatever it was, it was important. But Daisuke didn't have the courage or the nerve to ask about it, and somehow he was ashamed for it.

"Niwa?" Satoshi asked as they got the trunk to the cab closed. They had chosen the expensive transport since neither had a car and there was no other remotely convenient way of getting the gifts to the popular man's apartment.

"Yeah?" The redhead sat on the bumper, hands on either side in support as he stared at his friend in curiosity.

"You didn't tell me about what happened to you." It was as if he didn't want to ask, but had to know, and Daisuke leaned back and tilted his head up, wondering how their strange friendship worked.

"The Harada twins and I went to the same school. I had asked the younger one out after having a crush on her for years. She was kind and polite about it, but she told me couldn't do that. I think that I freaked her out somehow, but we were still friends afterward. I even helped her stalk this guy once just because she'd asked. I think… I might still like her, but I dunno. It's like she's my sister or something."

He looked down, a little ashamed for telling such a long story and being so full of himself, but the worst of it was what he was about to say: "Still, it hurt a lot, y' know, when she rejected me. It was like I had wasted my time liking her and I couldn't help but feel like I was nothing for a long time."

Satoshi stared at Daisuke as he watched the emotions play on his features. Risa, it seemed, was a slightly gentler version of himself, and the redhead's story made him feel like dirt. He was doing the same thing to all those girls, and not feeling any remorse for it at all. He might as well have been Risa just then, for all the good he was doing. "You know what, Niwa? You're really something."

Something in the boy's watery smile seemed a lot more real than the one's he'd been seeing all along. "Thanks."


	5. St White's Day

**AN:** I'm bad, horrible for making this before the next chapter of _Red Button_, but... I couldn't resist? It was too much fun. This one is kind of short, but Satoshi gets stalked! What more could you want?  
Satoshi: For you to _not_ have people stalk me?  
Mais, non. Um... Yeah. Enjoy!

* * *

"Niwa, who is Fukuda Ritsuko?"

To say the question caught Daisuke off guard would be an understatement. "Umm… She has the long brown hair in the braid. Talks to Harada-san a lot."

"Oh," he blunette said after a pause then went back to scribbling on whatever it was he was working on, leaving the redhead perplexed and curious.

--

He didn't know if it was unfortunate or not, but either way the strange questions continued over the course of several days and edged on to weeks. It seemed Satoshi knew the names of almost every girl in the office, but couldn't match them to faces and needed to refer to Daisuke for help. While the brown-eyed man was proud of his friend for emerging from his social bubble, to say the younger wasn't concerned would be a lie.

And so, after Satoshi had asked about the rather chubby receptionist on the top floor of the office, who Daisuke had to ask several people about to know it even was her, Daisuke finally asked him about it. "But why do you want to know?"

"Hm? Oh, no reason." He finished writing something in handwriting Daisuke couldn't decipher from his angle before returning to doing his job. No reason? Satoshi was obsessing over the entire female population of the office for no reason? Something was up.

--

Even though he waited another week or so, the strangeness didn't end. Gods help him, it was getting odder. Satoshi was talking and–dare he say it?–almost flirting with people. All of them girls and all of them people who he apparently hadn't known before. All of them were very giddy at the fact that the blunette would speak to them and could be affiliated with the brood that stalked the man on a regular basis.

And freely, Satoshi was hanging out with them more than he did with his best friend. Said best friend was getting jealous.

Something was most definitely up and Daisuke was determined to find out what. The way how came to him in an instant. His mother's psychopathic tendencies would come in handy, after all.

"_Niwa Daisuke! I want you to cut all these times in half by tomorrow morning, and if you set off any alarms and wake me up, I'll want them even shorter!"_

"_But mom–"_

"_Don't you 'but mom' me, mister! You will do as you're told and like it. Who knows when you'll have to do this someday. You'll thank me, I know you will!"_

"_Yes, mom."_

"_One more thing: if you die, you're grounded for a month!"_

Sure, dodging lasers, disarming bombs, and stalking his grandfather everywhere was a circle of hell he'd promised never to inflict on his kids, but maybe–just maybe–this little incident would change his mind. He'd be sure to write a thank you note later.

--

_March 14th, 2008, 4:01am. I have arrived. Target is awake and has yet to leave apartment, but I will not give up._

_4:57am, target has left the apartment, I follow._

_5:15am, target boards the train, I take the car behind him._

_5:55am, target leaves the train at expected stop. I–crap! He almost saw me, but I hid. He may suspect me, but I will never give up._

_6:15am, target arrives at office at the same time as a janitor. They are talking to each other, but I can't hear what they're saying. Target hands something to the janitor. Is he in on this, too? The door opens, target goes inside. I follow. His footsteps are easy to hear in the quiet halls and it is easy to track him to the mailroom._

_Why is he filing in the mailroom? Wait, those aren't files, they're–_

"Niwa, do you stalk everyone for fun or am I a special case?" The blunette didn't even glance at the shorter man, who was in black, skin-tight attire.

Had he been any less healthy, Daisuke would have keeled over right then and there from a heart attack. "Hi-hi-hi-hi-Hiwatari-kun! Uh–I, umm–what are you–what are you doing here?"

"I always get here this early." He filed away another item. "Why were you following me?"

'_Be cool, be cool, be cool._' "Umm… I wasn't following you. We just happened to arrive at the same time."

"Niwa, don't lie." Always filing and never sparing the redhead a glance–annoying and suspicious. "I saw you staked out outside my apartment."

"How did you know I was there?" he asked indignantly. And here he thought he was a very good detective, spy… thing.

"You speak very loudly." Blunt was one word for the previously antisocial man.

"Oh."

"I'll only ask you one more time: Why were you following me?" Finally, Satoshi glanced at him and Daisuke wished he hadn't. Blue eyes pinned him to the spot and his brown ones widened a hair as the shorter male felt hunted. It was time to come clean, and not about how many breaks he actually took in the day. Hurriedly, Daisuke looked away, finding the ceiling very interesting.

"I was worried about you."

Satoshi softened, only just realizing how intimidating he probably was, when the phrase struck him. Daisuke worried about him? Why? He hadn't given the redhead a reason to care, much less to _worry_ about him. It was… weird. He wasn't sure he liked it. "Why?"

"You've been acting strange recently. I thought, maybe, something was going on, y' know." Daisuke kicked his shoe against the ground, feeling fourteen-years-old all over again. Satoshi just stared, bewildered at the fact that anyone paid attention to him enough to know when he wasn't himself. "And that I could help you, or something, 'cause I didn't think you'd ask for help. Um… I'm sorry."

"Here," Daisuke looked up to see a stack of envelopes inches away from his face. "Help me sort these." They were letters… to girls.

"Hiwatari-kun, what–"

"I thought about what you said last month. About how I shouldn't throw their feelings away, and you were right. I shouldn't just ignore them. So I read all the cards, ate the chocolates, and got to know them–" Satoshi paused, startled by the elated look on the redhead's face. Distantly, the paler man wondered if his friend was high, or if maybe he'd gotten it wrong. Wasn't today March 14th, St. White's Day? Wasn't he _supposed_ to repay the girls for their gifts today? Or had he been told wrong? Had he done all this for nothing?

Daisuke, on the other hand, was particularly amused by the image of Satoshi plopping down on the floor cross-legged, bound and determined to get through the entire pile in one night, getting sick of all the sweets and eyestrain from all the reading. He would have read them studiously, memorizing who gave what and said what, then finding out exactly which face the name related to. It was funny, and Daisuke hoped never to forget it for a long time.

"That's great, Hiwatari-kun! I bet you'll make them all so happy, and–!"

"Niwa, they scare me." The absolute truth expressed in that statement stopped Daisuke dead in his tracks. "They keep laughing, and blink a lot like they have something in their eyes, and try to lean on me. So, I'm sending them each a letter telling them Thank You for the gifts and asking them to leave me alone."

A long silence passed before Daisuke burst out laughing, and he didn't stop for a very long time.


	6. Easter

AN: Finally, a new chapter. I hope you like this one. I got stuck after Krad appeared, but I think I made it interesting. I'm sorry for the delay.

* * *

From the start, he knew it was going to be a bad day. It'd taken almost ten minutes longer for him to wake up than usual, his blonde neighbor was hiding from the other annoyance in his closet–dressed as a rabbit, no less; Satoshi decided he didn't want to know–, he was out of coffee, he was out of bread, and his co-worker had left five messages on his answering machine.

_You have five new messages. Message one: -beep-_

"_Hi, Hiwatari-kun. I guess you're not awake yet, huh? Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come over today. My mom's cooking for half the neighborhood and I thought, y' know, if you wanted to come you could. Kthnxbye!"_

_Message erased. New message:_

"_I guess it's still too early for you. Umm, this is Niwa Daisuke (forgot to tell you that last time. My voice sounds different over the phone, or at least that's what everyone says…) Oh! Just calling to remind you that you are welcome over any time. See ya."_

_Message erased. New message:_

"_Hi, this is Emiko, Dai-chan's mom! My little darling is really depressed because you won't come over and–"_

"_Mom! What are you doing?"_

"_I'm calling your little friend. Isn't he at home?"_

"_Mom!"_

"_What?"_

"_Knock it off. Hey! Don't mess with my hair. I'm not five, you know!"_

"_Niwa Daisuke, you do not order me around like that, young man! Why, if the Tanakas wouldn't call Child Protective Services, I'd discipline you right here in the yard. You know I would! You've never acted this way before. Why, I have the mind to cut off–"_

"_Mom! Hang up the phone!"_

"_Hm? Oh, right."_

_Message erased. New message:_

"_Hi. This is Daisuke again. Um, disregard my mom. She's… overworked. Um… I tried your cell, but I guess it's off. I didn't know you could sleep this late! Must be because of all that work, huh? Well, get some rest. Call me back."_

_Message erased. New message:_

"_Hiwatari-kun? You there? Are you alright? It's already one in the afternoon and you haven't called me back. I'm worried about you. Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? You're not ignoring me, are you? Hiwatari-kun! Pick up the phone, already. It's like you're dead or… something… GAH! You're not dead, are you?! (Right, you live all alone.) Omigod, omigod, omigod. Um, I'm coming over to check on you, ok? If you can hear me, pick up the phone. Well, I'll be over in a few minutes, don't die on me!"_

"Hiwatari-kun? Are you home?"

_Message erased._

Bang bang bang bang!

_There are no more messages._

"Hiwatari-kun! Open the door." Satoshi sighed and glanced at the clock. 1:37. He did sleep in late. "Why won't you answer? Hiwa–!!" Just then, all noise outside seemed to stop and the blue-eyed man stared at the door worriedly. As he got closer, he could hear the sounds of a muffled conversation.

"Ok, Creepy! I'll count to five and if you don't open the door, I'm breaking it down!" A look of dread passed over the still sleepy blunette's face as he tried to work the locks. "1, 2, 5!!" And the door rushed out suddenly to meet him, flinging him halfway across the room. "Shit."

Daisuke screamed. "Hiwatari-kun!"

After several minutes, Daisuke had calmed down, Dark had trashed the apartment looking for the first-aid kit, and Satoshi was just sitting on the couch, wondering why his life was so messed up.

"I'm sorry, Hiwatari-kun, I–" the redhead repeated for the thousandth time.

"Niwa, if you apologize again, I'll have to hit you. Besides," he added as the purple-haired man began to wrap the bandages to cover his face, since the combination scratch-bruise was all taken care of and he had extra material, "It was that idiot's fault."

"Hey, you calling me an idiot?" Dark twitched. The whole day was stupid. He'd finally gotten Krad into the costume, and now he couldn't find him; he had broken a door and after being threatened with his life, promised to replace it; he still didn't have Krad, and now he was being called an idiot.

"I may not like you, but I won't lie to you, either."

"Why you…" He pounced on the smaller, paler man and proceeded to use the remaining bandages in a somewhat unorthodox manner. "I'll show you!"

"Mmmrrph!"

"Hold still, dammit!"

"Mousey-san!"

"I won't hurt him, Dai."

"Stop it; I have to take him to my house!"

No one said bandages couldn't make good gags, right?

"Dark, don't rape Hiwatari." That voice, that tone, that insult! Dark's eyes shone as he began to turn. Could it be? Yes, yes, it was! "Or Niwa, for that matter," the amendment came when he saw the youngest also bound and gagged.

"Kraaaaaad!" Glomp smash bang explosion.

The blonde twitched. It was just his luck. He had been hiding in the closet after being forced into that ridiculous… thing, and then his conscience just had to force him to protect his poor neighbors from the very thing he had been hiding from. "Dark. You're heavy. Get off."

"I'm not fat," the tanner male pouted as he readjusted to straddle his roommate's stomach.

"I didn't say you were fat, I said you were heavy. Off." Not waiting for a response, Krad used his Magic Foreigner Powers™ to shove Dark off with only his right arm. And while Dark fumed in the background, Krad untied the natives.

* * *

"Niwa, why does your yard smell like rotting eggs?" Great, they had only been out of the car for two seconds, and Satoshi was already rather scared for his life. Seriously, why would anyone's yard have such an odor? Unfortunately, the redhead was unable to answer the question as he was rather stuck in a choke hold that made the older male quite glad he didn't have a mother.

"Oh, Dai-chan! You and your friend are so late."

"Mom!"

"We've been waiting for you–"

"Mom… can't–"

"And you don't even call!"

"can't breathe."

"We were going to get the police looking for you!"

"Suffocating."

"Niwa–" not only did the scary female and the male he wanted to rescue pause and look at him, but so did the two other men emerging from the house "–kun, is there a reason you dragged me all the way to the other side of town, on a Sunday, to a place where the lawn smells like something died in it?" Sunday was the only day he was able to sleep in and he did so almost religiously. Besides, he had learned from other occasions that the Niwa clan was something to be feared. They had the terrible habit of giving him ten pounds of food to eat, pinching him because he wasn't wearing green–he honestly didn't know why Niwa-kun's mother felt the need to pinch him _there_–and promote various types of insanity when the rest of the neighborhood wanted them to shut up for once.

Daisuke caught a whiff of the 'dead things' smell and sent a slightly accusatory stare at Emiko. "Mom, you didn't."

"Well, you said you were going to be right back," she retorted, towering over her son with little effort and Daisuke, knowing he'd lose the battle, let out a groan of frustration. "And I still expect you to find all of them. Every. Last. _One._"

Niwa-kun pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to decide which form of torture to implement on his poor guest: leaving him at the mercy of his family, or have him try to locate the sources of the odor. He had to make a decision soon; the neighbors were sure to call someone about the smell soon enough. "C'mon, Hiwatari-kun," he called reluctantly. "Let's go Easter Egg Hunting."

And what luck, Satoshi had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Easter was a foreign holiday. Egg was spawned from a chicken, and probably what smelled so bad. And hunting meant searching for something. Ok, egg hunting made some sense. They were going to track down eggs. Alright, why were they supposed to look for eggs? Why were the eggs outside in the first place? What did this have to do with Easter?

Leave it to the Niwas to come up with a festivity that hurt his brain.

Instead of questioning the puzzling activity, he copied Daisuke in his search for hidden, painted, rotting eggs. He could already tell that the smell was going to stick. Great, he was going to have to use the Niwas' bath. Hooray. Just when he thought the group couldn't instill a new horror on him, they found a way to implement two.

There was a plus to this, though. He now had an excuse to scatter eggs about Mousy's apartment. It was a holiday tradition.

Never mind, Mousy, not to mention the landlord, would have his head for it; he rather liked his current apartment. It was clean, cheap, and small enough to make it seem full with one person living in it.

Damn, the Niwas won again.

* * *

Eventually, Satoshi and Daisuke decided they had found all of the hidden 'treats' and thrown them away (thank the gods garbage day was tomorrow), and made their way inside. Throughout their quest, both had noticed that some of the neighbors had gone inside the house, but nothing could have prepared either for the throng stuffed into the cramped living room.

"Hiwatari-kun," Daisuke ventured as he began to search for any break in the people.

"Yes?"

"I'm so sorry." There was no need for an explanation. He had dragged his coworker to yet another social event, subjected him to his family's oddities, and now he was about to drag him through a solid mass of human beings. Maybe next time, one of them would remember this and find a way to avoid this. Until then, it would have to be another circle of Holiday Hell at the Niwas.

"It's alright." He was surprised to find him jerked through the mob be his arm, more so to find the person dragging him was a serious-looking Daisuke. He had hardly realized what had happened until they were almost up the stairs. From what he could tell, they had both made it through without bumping people very often. It was if the crowd parted to allow them passage.

Satoshi leaned against the rail and stared down at the formless blob that made up most of the families living on this street. It was even worse than the horde waiting for the commuter's train every morning. "Niwa-kun, that is quite a gift."

Niwa-kun instantly became flushed and embarrassed, scratching the back of his head while rambling on about how it was really nothing and how he just got lucky and oh, that is a really nice shirt you have on and–

"Niwa, you're babbling." As Daisuke launched into another string of apologies and useless fillers to occupy the silence he was sure the elder wouldn't fill on his own, Satoshi found the need to interrupt him again. "Niwa," he found himself using the name more and more often to make sure he had the other's attention, "Stop apologizing. I don't mind, really. Just make sure when you talk, you have something to say."

Well, that effectively shut him up, which was no good, either. It was really odd seeing Daisuke quiet and Satoshi almost missed the string of incomprehensible nonsense. But there was no way Daisuke was going to speak up on his own, as far as the blunette could tell, so he took up the initiative. After all, it was rather odd to be at the Niwas in a dress shirt and tie. He would have to buy some normal clothes for these occasions. "Can I borrow some of your clothes?"

* * *

Now in suitable attire, this time a cerulean long-sleeved shirt and jeans–why did they wear the same size clothes when Niwa was almost two inches shorter, anyway?–and most of the guests ushered outside by the Niwa matriarch, Daisuke deemed it safe for them to go downstairs. Hiwatari followed a few paces behind, since Daisuke _should_ have been prepared for any dangers that the house might present.

Three steps from the first floor landing, Niwa-kun proceeded to disappear through a hole in the floor with a terrifying scream.

From the kitchen, Satoshi could hear Emiko comment as she shut off the tap, "Oh dear, I thought for sure I had disarmed that one."

Even after Daisuke had managed to climb out of the pit–with ease Hiwatari was certain the average desk worker ought not have–, it took nearly an hour to convince Satoshi that the dinner was not poisoned. They ate and after deciding killing people would not look good on his resume, a thoroughly exhausted and anti-social Satoshi drove home and collapsed in bed without removing the borrowed clothing.

And the next morning, for the first time in his life, Satoshi was late to work by a full hour.

* * *

AN: Why do I have the feeling this is way too short? Oh well. This is what you get. Read and Review, please. 


	7. A Very Krad Easter

AN: This is the secret, bonus chapter! I hope you like it, enjoy!

* * *

"No." 

"But–"

"No."

"It's _Easter_, Krad!"

"No."

"It's not like I want you to pose nude."

"_No_."

"God, Krad! It's just a bunny outfit. It's not even sexy."

"**No.**" Dark froze, unable to move from beneath the cold gaze. This was so weird. Usually Krad was elated–at least, as close as he got to the emotion–at the chance to celebrate a holiday he practiced back in the States. Why would this one be any different? It didn't make any sense at all. Finally, as Krad turned away, considering the battle won, Dark found his voice box all over again.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," again came the snappy, stand-offish behavior. He hadn't seen the man act like this since they first met as kids–not to him, anyway. "It's just–" Krad crossed his arms in annoyance, glaring at the wall, since injuring Dark would only complicate matters. "My family's flying over today. They want to spend all day with me."

Dark found the appropriate response to this to be slapping the aggravated blond on the back. "That's great, Krad! I haven't seen your folks in–"

"It's not great." He stormed over to the couch and plopped down on the comfy cushions. "Have you–_completely_ lost your mind? My parents are coming, Dark. _My_ parents." Krad could see Dark blank out for a second and come back with an 'oh' of understanding. "Yeah, that's right. Oh." He pinched the bridge of his nose with long fingers. "We're going to have to be very careful."

"So? We'll just have to act like we used to," Dark sat down next to his roommate lazily. "No big deal."

"Dark," Krad began threateningly and slowly, "You will not belch. You will not curse. You will not use slang. You will not attempt to pants me. You will not shoplift, boast about your low salary, scratch yourself, grope my mother, or even scrape your fork getting food off your plate, even when no one else is around. You will be an outstanding citizen and the perfect gentleman, or so help me, I'll feed you your rectum. Am I understood?" Dark nodded meekly, having backed up at the far end of the couch during the presentation of the rules. "Say it. Promise me."

"I promise, Krad," Dark refrained from shouting defensively, but that didn't make him look any less cornered as he shrunk away even further.

Krad sighed and sunk back against the couch, reading the clock. A resigned chuckle escaped his lips as he remembered why he was up this early. He had a report due on Monday, and he'd stayed up all night to get it just right. That was when he had gotten the e-mail from his parents. Then, Dark had come in, bouncing on anything that would support his weight and insisting that he wear some kiddie bunny suit. He had to admit, it was sort of cute, but it just couldn't happen today. "It's four-thirty now. I have to pick them up from the airport at six. They have a lunch at one, but after that they'll be with us until ten tonight."

"What do we do until then?"

"We clean up until this apartment shines brighter than the business district at dawn."

Dark groaned.

* * *

Dark kicked at the door of the apartment for the third time in the same amount of minutes. He couldn't believe Krad had forced him out of the flat, yelling at him for making things worse. As if it was all his fault. Seriously, so what if he knocked over a vase? Or broke three plates? Or got high off of the floor cleaner? Or tried to bathe Krad with the dish cleaner? 

Ok, so maybe he was being difficult today. Dark pouted, leaning against the wall. He'd never seen Krad stress over anything so much. So his parents were a little… overbearing, but it wasn't anything to blow a gasket over, right?

He could remember–Rio, was it?–watching him like a hawk whenever he came over, and his father always coughed when he entered a room. Krad would always glance at them before quickly looking away as if nothing had happened. Krad'd always make him come over in his best clothes and nothing less and the blond himself would walk around in slacks and nice button-up shirts.

And his house was always impeccably clean. Not a speck of dirt anywhere, nothing out of place. Anything used would be put back in its rightful place immediately. It had always made the house seem empty, and Dark got the feeling that no one really lived there. Oh people _resided_ in that place; they slept, and ate, and spent some time in one of the many rooms, but nobody _lived_.

Krad had tried to keep the apartment spotless for the first few months, and Dark's lack of cleanliness mixed with Krad's stubbornness were the start of many fights. After that, though, they both compromised on being able to navigate in the dark without tripping, minimal odor, and no surprises when trying to sit on something. What each did with their own room was none of the other's business (so long as Krad couldn't smell it and both kept his respective door closed).

The cleaning binge was understandable, Dark reasoned as he glanced down the hall, but no matter how clean the apartment was on the inside, it wouldn't help much if the halls were a mess. Cursing himself for being too nice, Dark stood and opened the janitorial closet, vowing to make Krad repay him someday.

* * *

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. All this scrubbing was starting to get to him, not to mention the fumes. Already, the place was beginning to smell like a hospital, but he still wasn't done. Back and forth. Krad sat back on his heels, wiping his forehead and getting suds in his hair. He wasn't getting anywhere for the amount of time he was spending sanitizing the apartment, and he still had to do the carpeted rooms. 

He removed the cloth that held his hair out of his face and shook his head, scratching his hands through the golden strands to loosen them before retying the bandanna. At this rate, he was going to have bruises on his knees, a dirty apron (he was wearing it so he didn't get any more clothes dirty), and maybe not get a chance to shower before leaving. He still had to clean the front room and move his stuff to Dark's room so his parents could have his just in case.

Oh great, he'd have to tackle Dark's room, too. At least his own was fine, so he wouldn't have to do anything about that, but Dark was going to pissed about Krad messing with his room. The man had privacy issues.

He sighed, realizing he was being unfair. Dark was trying to help, complained a lot less than he expected him to, and even was civil when Krad ordered him out. After this, he'd have a lot to make up for. Maybe he could buy him dinner or something.

Krad jumped as he realized how off-track he was. All this thinking and feeling guilty wasn't getting him anywhere. That thought firmly in mind, he leaned forward and began scrubbing again.

* * *

He stepped out of the shower at 5:15, feeling better now than he had prior and began to carefully towel off his hair before blow drying it the rest of the way. Already, he could feel the old facades falling into place and he wasn't sure he liked it. This was too easy and the molds hadn't even gathered dust. He snapped his hair back to a perfect ponytail then grabbed the scissors and snipped the ends away. There, perfect. The white shirt fell on his shoulders just as easily as the black slacks had pulled on, followed by the matching jacket and–Krad cringed–a tie. 

He adjusted the clothing in front of the mirror for what seemed to be an eternity until he decided that it was fine. He looked no different than he had a couple years ago: cold, detached, and Hikari. He frowned a little at the thought before he grabbed the keys to the car and made his way outside.

* * *

"Mother," two short kisses, one for each cheek, "Father," the same, always with the formalities, "It is so nice to finally see you." 

"We would see much more of each other if you stayed at home," his mother, always looking down her nose at everything, nothing good enough, never perfect enough, "like you were supposed to." His father, always coughing in agreement, but never offering vocal sentiments.

His own shallow smile, never allowed to slide out of place. "Yes, well you know how those things go."

"Indeed," her picking at invisible nothings on her sleeve, "Are you going to be keeping us in this dingy terminal, or are you going to show us your little country?"

"Yes, Mother, right away." He would not miss how both his parents cringed at his compact car, or how his mother absolutely refused to comment on her son on the ride, speaking only when there was something to complain on.

* * *

Krad opened the door with the form, rigidity, and impeccable manners expected of him, to a huge surprise. Dark, in one of Krad's suits, looking remarkably… _clean_. Still, there was no beat to be missed and as soon as he was able to close the door and seal their fates, he was at the front of the pack, playing his role. "Mother, Father, I'm sure you remember my cotenant, Mr. Dark Mousy." 

"It's a pleasure," and to Krad's perplexation, Dark kneeled, took Rio's hand daintily in his own, and brushed his lips on her wrinkling skin, "Mme. Hikari." Somewhere deep inside, Krad got the distinct impression that Dark was hitting on his mom.

"Charmed."

"Master Hikari," he gave the man a hearty shake, "You haven't changed a bit." That was it; cleaning chemicals had finally broken Dark's brain.

Cough.

And that was how the day had gone. Krad was nothing short of astounded at how well-behaved and correct Dark was acting, but it did not go without notice that both his wits and patience were wearing thin. Luckily, it became time for the parents to go to the business lunch, giving the other two a chance to regroup and recuperate.

"Krad," Dark spoke up after nearly fifteen minutes of reclining on the couch.

"Yes?"

"The bunny su–"

"No," he spoke in a harsher tone than he had intended, but maybe it was necessary. Then again… "I won't even consider it until they're on the plane back to America."

"By then, Easter will be over!"

"No, Dark. Just no."

Ten minutes later, he was hiding in his neighbor's closet, very much dressed like a rabbit over his suit, and very much ready to kill Dark and get it over with–or himself, whichever was more convenient. Then came the screams and scuffles, and Krad could only sit back and do nothing for so long. He emerged, exhausted.

"_Dark, don't rape Hiwatari; or Niwa, for that matter."_

"_Kraaaaaad!" Krad on the floor, ruffling his suit, secretly enjoying the lack of tension, but unable to do much but be confrontational._

"_Dark. You're heavy. Get off."_

"_I'm not fat!" Good, Dark was playing back. This would be such nice stress relief._

"_I didn't say you were fat, I said you were heavy. Off."_

And so went the afternoon until the elders returned.

* * *

Everything went as expected. The tour of the town was less than thrilling to any member, and Krad was reminded just how expensive his parents were as they circled back to the hotel where they were having dinner. 

"My dish is cold."

"Of course, Mother, you ordered sushi. It is, after all, raw fish and rice."

Cough.

Krad secretly hoped the manager would choke on his expensive food.

"It is not to my taste. Have the waiter take it back, and bring me something suitable, if there is such a thing here."

Choke and die on that damn $45-a-piece sushi.

"Of course, Mother."

Cough.

"And what is wrong with my tea? It tastes odd."

"Japanese tea has different ingredients, Mother."

"Well, send for some American tea."

Cough.

"Mother, we _are_ in Japan. Perhaps you could consider this a cultural experience."

Cough.

"I've had enough of this _culture_–" it took all of Krad's dwindling self-control not to flinch and fume at how she spat the word "–for one day. I cannot understand how you can bear to live here–"

Cough.

"–With such uncivilized people surrounding you every day." Krad could feel his fists clenching and unclenching in his lap as Dark's gaze bounced back and forth between mother and son. "Why can you not simply come home where you belong? Lowering your standards and living with peasants like _them_ cannot be any good for you." Cough, clench, worried glance. "I strongly suggest you return home with us this evening–" inaudible growl "–where you can be treated and served as a man of your proud lineage deserves." Cough, clench, twitch, grating teeth. "Your Grandmother would surely die, should she see what conditions you have set upon yourself. I'm glad your–"

As Krad was about to interrupt her tirade verbally and physically, Dark shot up, slamming a fist down on the decorated table. "Shut up." All eyes turned upon the purple-haired man as he left all pretenses behind. "Krad worked his ass off this morning when he found out at one in the morning you were coming. He scrubbed, and cleaned, and threatened me to behave, and put himself aside all day to please you. You and your–your damn high standards! What else is he supposed to do? He has a life here–"

"Dark," Krad spoke quietly, staring into his lap.

"And he's not about to leave it behind just because you have some family stick up your ass. Can't you respect one single decision he's made?"

"Dark," he tried again, going unheard.

"You stupid, elitist, bitch!"

"Dark!" he caught his attention as he grasped Dark's sleeve, rising from his chair and never looking at his parents. "That's enough." He didn't know what to be ashamed for: his parents, the commotion, Dark's behavior, or the fact it was all about himself. Or maybe that he'd known all along it would end like this. He fetched his wallet from his breast pocket, placed a few bills on the table and replaced the billfold in his back pocket where it belonged. He directed his words to his parents, but kept his eyes trained downward. "Finish your meal and go. Don't–I would like for you to leave us alone, now, thank you."

He turned and left with as much dignity as he could muster, feeling Dark following. When they were beyond the building and on the way to their parking place, he found his voice again. "Dark, you drive."

"You sure?" Dark's eyebrows furrowed slightly. Krad didn't like him _touching_ the vehicle on his best days, and now he was letting the one without a license drive a couple tons of moving metal?

"Yeah." Krad tossed the keys after unlocking the passenger door, knowing Dark would catch them easily, and settled in the seat. Dark slid into the driver's seat beside him, trying to ignore the way Krad buried his head in his hands when both doors were finally closed. "Just get me home, ok?"

"Ok." Dark drove in silence, not wanting to do anything to upset the blond further. It was a disaster, and he didn't know anyway he could possibly make it better.

"I can't believe I did that." Dark listened, but didn't know what to say. "I blew it. They're going to find a way to bring me back. There's no way they'll let me go after that. It's over. … I'm sorry you had to go through all that. I shouldn't have made you come."

"Hey, I came because I wanted to," he supplied helpfully. "It's not like it's your fault."

"I'm sorry."

And Dark had nothing to say.

It was hard for him to watch the blond stumble up the stairs and down the hall, but he held back. Helping now would only manage to bruise the man's pride even more, and doing so would only make things worse. Instead, he followed just a pace behind, doing nothing even when Krad let himself collapse on the couch. "You really want to sleep there?"

"I don't care," Krad responded with a hand covering his eyes. Next thing he knew, he was floating, then held against something warm. "Dark, I'm not a child."

"I know," Dark noted that the man failed to struggle, "But you'll be sore in the morning if you sleep on that couch."

Krad grunted an approval and let himself be carried to his room and placed on his bed. There was a moment of nothing–Dark didn't even move–before he felt fingers unbuttoning his jacket. "Dark," he groaned.

"You'll be pissed if you wake up in all this."

Krad moaned again, but didn't fight as the jacket left, or the shoes, or the socks. When the button-down shirt started to go, he squirmed a little, getting uncomfortable. Then, he could feel his belt being undone, and pants button unsnapped, and it became a little much. "Dark."

"Hush."

The slacks left and so did the weight on the bed, leaving Krad in his undershirt and bowers. If he was any more awake, Krad would have wondered why Dark was so skilled in the art of undressing others, but right now, very little actually mattered. "Just throw them on the floor." He responded to Dark's confused sound tiredly, not even understanding himself, "Leave it a little messy, ok?"

There was a pause then a soft "Ok" before he felt his being shifted, and something covering him.

"Thanks."

A light pressure on his forehead, but it didn't disturb him for once. It left. "Night, Krad."

"Night."

The door closed, and Krad slept, and Dark…

Dark got on the computer and began to type a very long, well-thought-out e-mail.

* * *

AN: Like, dislike? Give off some opinions, ok? 


	8. April Fools

AN: This one is short, but it's for the only holiday I could find that might be good for representing April. (Yes, I'm trying to get at least one event per month.) By the way, does anyone know whether or not there are official birthdates for any of the characters? If not, I'm about to start making things up. x.x I know Daisuke's is November 11th (back of the third book), and that Dark's is the same. Since they're the same, I'm just going to let one have November 11th, and make up the other's. -

I realize I haven't updated in a while, and–

**Dark**: No shit.

I'm pretty sure I've let you all down like that.

**Dark and Krad**: No shit.

And it's not really like I was busy or anything–

**Everyone**: No shit.

-locks the cast out- I was just in a state of uncreativity.

**Satoshi**: Too bad your English is still creative.

No shi–Hey! How'd you get back in here?

**Satoshi**: I plead the fifth.

Just because I write this in America, doesn't mean you have our rights. Talk!

**Satoshi**: Do you _really_ think I'm going to answer if I don't want to?

-sigh- No…

Now I'm just trying to take up space, so read on!

* * *

It figured that it would be the first day of his life that Satoshi didn't check the calendar before leaving for work. It started out on the train, when the person usually in charge of keeping everyone behind the yellow line announced that all train fare would be waived for the next twenty minutes, only to burst out laughing when there was a mad rush to the gates. Satoshi, ever skeptical, got swept away with the masses. 

Then, there were the people who pointed and gasped at nothing, or pointed and screamed, or pointed and stated that it might be in the public's best interest to instantly drop to the ground. Satoshi glanced once or twice, never surprised. All this ended in more laughter.

Then, something most infuriating happened. That Saehara boy, who was usually thoughtless and was entering the building just moments ahead of him, managed to have enough manners to hold the door open, only to attempt to slam it in Satoshi's face. Luckily, he had fast enough reflexes to stop the brown, wooden tool of attempted homicide and face-hurting.

And Saehara thought this was funny.

Satoshi, being a reasonable, level-headed man, proceeded to return the favor of attempted murder, only he was using much more reliable weapons, like hands wound tightly around one's neck. It was actually quite pleasing and stress-relieving to see the jokester's face turn blue, but unfortunately, Niwa had to be there to stop him. Damn Niwa. Then the red-head decided it best to take him aside and have-a-word-with him, as Daisuke had put it. "What's the matter with you?" Satoshi didn't think yelling was part of having-a-word-with, but he didn't think interrupting would be a healthy choice. "I've never even seen you look annoyed at someone, and I walk into the office to see you choking Saehara-kun! Have you lost your mind?"

Seeing as Niwa never had been able to recall the night of Chinese New Year, Satoshi didn't see how correcting him would help. "No."

"Then what's your problem?" Niwa was still shouting. Bad, Niwa, bad.

"At approximately 8:15am, I left the apartment. In the forty-six minutes it took for me to arrive at work, 34 people each attempted to pull a prank on me. At 9:01am, Saehara pretended to hold the door open, then attempted to slam it in my face. This was stopped by my putting my foot in the door. Saehara then proceeded to laugh about the matter, causing me to–"

With a sigh, Daisuke let a hand thump down on Satoshi's shoulder. "Alright, I get it." When the blue-haired man didn't respond, Daisuke took up the opportunity. "Hiwatari-kun, do you know what day it is?"

"No, why?" Why would it matter what day it was?

"Um, Hiwatari-san?" One of the timid-looking females of his stalk–I mean fan club nervously interrupted their conversation. "The boss would like to see you."

Satoshi looked at Niwa; Niwa looked at Satoshi; Satoshi shrugged, Niwa shrugged, and Satoshi returned his attention to the rather confused young lady. "Ok."

* * *

He didn't know what to be more worried over: whether or not the meeting was about the assault on Saehara, or the fact that he had to be alone in an office with only his boss. Not that there was anything wrong with the man, but… "You wanted to see me, Mr. Saga?" The blond had insisted that he be called by the American title. Satoshi didn't care enough to protest, especially since he spoke English just fine. 

"Satoshi!" Satoshi cringed at the slightly offending use of his name. They weren't close at all, and Saga Keiji thought it was ok to call him by his first name. "Just the man–" and, oh God, he was hugging "–I wanted to see!"

"Yes, sir?" _Personal space, personal space, personal space!_

"Sir," the creepy Funabashi-secretary materialized from nothing and Saga let go.

Keiji coughed and carried on as if nothing had happened. "Seeing as that you have blue hair, kittens are made of sugar, and Venus is the second planet in the solar system, I decided to double your salary!"

Satoshi's inner self did numerous back flips, cheers, and other celebratory actions, but the Satoshi on the outside raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Sir?"

"Are you deaf?" He made a strange sound in the back of his throat as his already sickeningly wide smile managed to stretch even further. "I told you–" the strange noise started to sound strangely like "–I would–" strangled laughter "–_double_–" As predicted, Saga burst into a hysterical bout of hooting, and Satoshi merely stared until he finally settled down enough to shout "April Fools!"

Ten minutes later, Satoshi was sent home for the day with a recommendation for psychological evaluation. How was he supposed to know the secretary doubled as a body guard?


	9. Golden Week

AN: Yes, it's an update! For the ones who don't know, Golden Week is a week of holidays in Japan. This is when most people would take their paid vacations.

**UPDATE:** The chapter has a new ending because I realized that I hadn't taken it as far as I had planned to. _Please_ read it, or else some future chapters might not make sense. And yes, it is supposed to leave some unanswered questions.

* * *

It was late into Monday, and yet most of everyone was already gone. They'd left for home, or were leaving for home; some hadn't even shown up today. It was a little silly to have only one work day that week, but that's the way the calendar fell. Golden week was starting tomorrow, it was five at night, and Satoshi was still straightening his desk and putting away his things. He figured that, once again, he was the only one left on the floor. 

This time, though, everything about it felt different. Actually, though the part of his mind that still assured him that he didn't need people screamed that it was a lie, he felt a little lonely. It seemed every day the office felt a little larger and within it, he was smaller. He hadn't noticed it until today, but life was so very different now that Niwa was there to be a constant presence in his life.

But it seemed Niwa had already gone home.

As much as Satoshi loved his 1-week hibernation, not having Niwa there to interrupt his peace and serenity made his vacation seem much more empty. Suddenly, taking a week off from work–a week off from Niwa–wasn't so welcome any more.

He shook his head and shoved his arm into his coat. He refused to think like that. He was not dependent on Niwa. He couldn't be.

* * *

When he got home, the very first thing he did was unplug his alarm clock. Last time Golden Week had shown up, the damn thing refused to stay disabled and this year, he just wasn't going to deal with it. His Buzzing Time-Keeping Device of Waking slaying adventure complete, he phoned his favorite Chinese place and had them deliver his usual to the apartment, and just put it on his tab. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what kind of shut-in had a usual for a Chinese Take-Out Place, and decided it was better not to think about it.

After eating and watching a bit of the news, he crawled into his bed and let consciousness slip away. The next time he was aware, it was 2 pm the next day.

* * *

The next days were spent doing nothing but sleeping, interrupted by meals, showers, and trips to the restroom. Only once, still riding off the buzz from his coffee and unable to sleep, did he check his e-mail to find it happily empty. Not once did he have to leave the house, or deal with his boss, or even yell at his neighbors to be quiet. Everything was good, and he didn't even have to be conscious long enough to think. Just an entire week spent in long periods of sleep like he did every year. 

Then, unlike every year, on the fifth day there was persistent knocking on his door.

He ignored it. It wasn't his problem. If he didn't respond, whoever it was would go away.

The knocking turned to ringing.

He didn't care. This was _his_ week to get all the sleep he missed out on for an entire year.

The ringing stopped and turned into pounding.

'_Go away_'. He buried his head beneath the pillow.

The pounding mixed in with shouting.

He groaned and completely obscured himself from the outside world within the confines of his nice, warm bed.

Then, suddenly, it all stopped, save for the faint rattling of his doorknob, and Satoshi realized with dread that he never set the deadbolt. In a matter of seconds, the door had been jimmied open, and a single person entered his home. Still stuck in a half-asleep state, he couldn't identify the voice and laid completely still. Maybe he'd just rob him and go away without even realizing he was there. Then he'd have an excuse to take more time off from work and sleep some more.

His light flicked on, but it didn't bother him much through the thick covers, and he didn't so much as flinch. The man was still talking to himself, and part of him wanted to know exactly what it was he was saying, but the fog in his mind didn't permit him to understand a word. His sheets shifted, then disappeared altogether and suddenly he was exposed to the harsh light. He curled up further on himself to shield himself from the intruder and the evil light, but the man decided it was very appropriate to shake his shoulder.

"Noooo," he groaned feebly, hoping that words and whining alone would fend off his attacker, but the man on turned him toward him. "Go away."

"Hiwatari-kun–" Wait, he knew that voice "–Get up. We were worried about you."

His mind finally clicked into place and he recognized exactly who was antagonizing him at this ungodly hour. It was 3:30 in the afternoon, but it could still be ungodly. Niwa. He cracked open a bleary eye and regarded the fuzzy vision of Niwa with all the attention he could muster, then muttered something even he didn't understand.

"You're not sick are you?" Great, now Niwa sounded even more worried.

"Mnasick."

"But no one's seen you all week! I thought you died."

"Mnagannadai."

"But I didn't know that!" Satoshi wanted to know how Daisuke could understand what he was saying, when Satoshi himself couldn't tell what was coming out of his mouth. He sat up, frumpy and not at all amused, and stared blankly at the intruder.

"How did you get in here?"

"I used a credit card," Niwa admitted, shrinking a little, but Satoshi couldn't see his face very well in his haze. He held something up with a short chuckle. Small, rectangular, and strangely colored. A credit card.

"Breaking and entering is a crime." He had to say it to make sure he knew. "What are you doing here, anyway?" He swung his legs over the side of the bed so he could face them properly, not caring how frumpy he looked.

"Well," Niwa spoke up, "My mom's been throwing parties every day since vacation started, and, well–I'm sick of it." Satoshi raised an eyebrow. "So I thought, hey! I haven't seen Hiwatari-kun all week. Maybe I could go over and hang out with him."

"So when I didn't answer the door, you broke in?" Daisuke nodded. Satoshi didn't find that he had room to complain. At least his door wasn't broken this time. "What would you have done if I hadn't been here? I could have been out, or vacationing somewhere else."

"I hadn't thought of that." Well, honesty had to count for something. "I'm so used to you being here whenever I need you, I didn't even think about it. I guess…" Daisuke looked up, considering the option. "I would have been worried, since I wouldn't know where you'd be, and you didn't say anything about leaving."

That was just like him, Satoshi reasoned. He'd have all of Japan out looking for him just because he didn't know where he was. He shook his head, standing carefully to avoid any dizziness–he had been sleeping for almost six days–and started out to the kitchen. "Niwa, you worry too much."

"I know." He watched for a minute as Satoshi began to search through the drawers. "What're you looking for?"

"Well, I should have a deck of cards around here, somewhere. I thought for sure I put it in here but–oh." Satoshi realized something and shook his head. He'd been here a week, surviving on take-out for a reason. He had let his fridge run dry. "Niwa, would you rather go with me to the store or stay here?"

"Go, why?"

"Give me a minute to get dressed and we'll go get groceries."

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Satoshi to get ready, and only a little longer to walk to the local market. It occurred to Daisuke that day that Satoshi was a purpose shopper. He went because he needed something and got only that. No dilly-dallying or looking around. Get in, get out. Apparently, Satoshi didn't need much, maybe about two bags. "Hiwatari-kun, how long would that usually last you?" 

"About a month and a half. I don't eat in much. By the way, you can go get something if you want it."

"Oh, well, I–"

"Niwa," Satoshi admonished, "It wasn't a request. I know you have a colorful diet, and I'm not going to make you deviate from it just because I'm boring–"

"I don't think you're–"

"Go get what you want to eat." Daisuke surrendered, knowing he wouldn't be able to talk his way out of it.

"Do you have any threes?"

"Go fish. Do you have any Jacks?"

"Here," Daisuke sighed and gave up his Jack of Spades.

"I win," Satoshi muttered as he laid down the pair.

"How do you keep doing that? That's five games in a row! Are you _sure_ you've never played before?"

"Of course," Satoshi took Daisuke's cards and shuffled the deck again. "It's simple math really. In that first game, we used the whole deck. I just kept track of the cards after that."

The redhead was nothing short of flabbergasted. "Hiwatari-kun! Card-counting is cheating!"

"It is?" The bridge he made of the cards fell neatly into the newly formed deck. Was that what it was called? How was it cheating? Niwa was just jealous that he could keep track of them so well. Plus, Daisuke had a habit of fiddling with his hand, so most of the cards he had got bent out of shape. He could tell most of them by their folds by now.

"Yes, it is," Daisuke reached for a cookie. At least now he knew he wasn't terribly unlucky. "Why don't we try a different game."

"Alright," Satoshi left the deck as-is for now. "What would you like to play?"

"Something that doesn't involve cards."

Satoshi conceded, storing his new deck in its box and getting himself another glass of water. "If you had told me it was cheating before, I wouldn't have done it."

"I didn't think you could do it, especially not with all of them." It was frustrating. Why was Satoshi even an office worker if he was smart enough to beat him at anything they tried? And another thing: "Why did you get milk if you wouldn't drink it?" Satoshi'd gotten the gallon at the last minute and hadn't so much as touched it once it got put in the fridge.

Satoshi looked about as surprised as his features would allow, like he expected Daisuke would know. "I got it for you. I'm lactose intolerant, but you look like someone who'd drink a lot of milk. Besides, you got all those cookies, I didn't think you'd like to drink them dry."

Daisuke gave a sigh. Stupid Satoshi and his thoughtfulness. It made it very difficult for Daisuke to stay mad. And then he had to go and pour him a glass. "Thank you."

* * *

Satoshi let his weight rest on the railing to the balcony, watching the two children play with fireworks in the street below. It was nice and cool out, nothing at all like the humid weather they'd been having, and the light breeze was more than refreshing. His black t-shirt flapped crisply in every gust and his jeans provided just the right balance between comfortable and thick for this night. Wearing casual clothing was a lot more relaxing than he had remembered it to be. 

They had only come out here because Daisuke had heard one of the whistlers and was curious to check it out, and Satoshi had made the decision to humor him. Daisuke was so interested that he was almost leaning too far out, the colors shining on his face and his smile reflecting the joy the kids below were surely feeling as their laughter rose up to the sky. Daisuke, Satoshi decided, probably really wanted to be down there, too, not stuck watching up on the balcony to be polite.

Satoshi swished his water in the glass and sorely wished it was alcohol instead. "You can go down and watch if you like."

Daisuke directed his attention from the show to his appointed best friend as the man chugged the last quarter of his glass. He had the feeling Satoshi wasn't nearly as amused as he was, and hadn't been all day, but instead had been entertaining him just because he was there. Satoshi was just the kind of polite person that would do that, and it annoyed Daisuke to pieces when he really thought about it.

"Nah, I like watching it from up here." He smiled at him as Satoshi set his glass on the rail without responding. They stared down at the dazzling lights, bouncing heads, and colored smoke. All that Satoshi could think about was how much smoke there would be in the air if people were doing this all across town and the wind never picked up. Daisuke tore him from the negative thought. "Sorry for waking you up today. I didn't mean to."

"No, it's alright." Satoshi seemed a little detached to Daisuke, as if he was really very far away from the conversation. He'd had the same feeling before, but it hadn't been happening so much recently. When Daisuke was honest with himself, he usually didn't like far-away Satoshi as much as he liked the normal one, but far-away Satoshi tended to forget that he was not alone, and he'd tell Daisuke things he'd never usually admit to. "Spending the week without work, it was–" Satoshi searched for a word he wanted to use, but none of the ones he liked were completely honest.

"Boring?" Daisuke supplied, crossing his arms on the rail and resting his head on his sleeves, and Satoshi shook his head, noticing just how soft the entire world seemed despite the loudness of the world below and the abruptly changing lights. "Lonely?"

"I suppose I was," Satoshi stared out into nothing, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "I guess it frustrated me. I'm not used to feeling like that. At least, not used to noticing it." Daisuke didn't even turn his head, as if any movement would wake Satoshi up, and he'd realized that he was opening up and stop. Daisuke, wanting to understand more, didn't want that. "Spending all week without work, without being around people, it was strange. I didn't know what to do, so I just did what I usually do for Golden Week. But it just didn't feel right." Satoshi _really_ wished he had some alcohol. "You understand, don't you, Niwa?"

Daisuke pretended not to notice as Satoshi's countenance fell right before he turned to face him, and he smiled even though he didn't feel like it. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."

Satoshi nodded and continued to stare out across the street, watching as someone's laundry flapped in the breeze and wondering who wore it on a regular basis. He wasn't used to thoughts like these and wondered distantly if he was going insane. "You said you were sick of your family's parties."

"Yeah," Daisuke was again entranced by the fireworks below. The children seemed to be throwing them at each other now.

"That's not really why you came over." That most certainly caught Daisuke's attention. Satoshi didn't need to look at him to see the look of surprise on his face, but he couldn't help admitting that he was a little glad as Daisuke's fake smile slid off his face. "You didn't come over because of your family; you came over because of something about me."

"Yes, I did."

"May I know why?"

Daisuke found himself not really surprised that Satoshi wasn't demanding to know, but asking. "I guess," he actually had to think for a minute to come up with a coherent reason. He knew it in his head, but it was so abstract that he didn't know if he really could explain it. "I guess I didn't want you to have to be alone." He turned to that he was leaning backwards on the rail and stretched back hoping to see the stars, but the city lights made them all but invisible. "I felt really bad celebrating with my family when I thought about you and remembered that you didn't have a family."

Satoshi didn't respond, but it felt wrong to leave the conversation hanging. "What happened to them? Your family."

Satoshi stared at his glass a moment, and just wished something was in it now–anything to stick in his mouth and slide down his throat. "I don't know my real family. I was adopted when I was young, so young I don't even remember, by my father. He died." Somehow, Satoshi felt that it was too easy to say it and wondered why Daisuke wasn't already speaking. He couldn't look at him. "I have no other relatives that I know of."

Daisuke had known the moment the question had left his mouth that it had been the wrong thing to ask. The way Satoshi's face relaxed completely, though he had clenched his glass tightly with both hands, or the way his words said almost nothing and his voice became completely flat, or just the fact that it was an extremely private matter–something made Daisuke realize his mistake.

There was a pinging sound that Satoshi didn't seem to hear and Daisuke searched in the general direction he had heard it from and was surprised when he saw the source.

"Hiwatari-kun, your glass." Satoshi looked down, mildly surprised that his cup was cracked, and a look crossed his face that Daisuke interpreted as _Dammit, not again_ and that look scared Daisuke more than anything.

"Oh." An awkward silence passed and Daisuke wondered when the fireworks had stopped and why he hadn't noticed, for much longer than it should've have taken for either of them to move. "Why don't you go on home, Niwa?" Satoshi didn't look up from his glass. "It's getting late and the both of us have work in the morning. We'll be needing some rest."

Daisuke recognized the suggestion for the order that it was and out of pure habit, smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hiwatari-kun." Satoshi didn't respond and he waited until he was sure that Daisuke had let himself out before moving raising the glass to eye level. He studied the crack and all the little fissures that now ran through it with a detached interest as if such a thing could tell him something.

The more he looked at, the more he thought, and his idle wonderings ran into each other until they turned into something Satoshi most definitely did not want to think about. By the time he had taken himself out of the path his mind had lead him on, he was breathing in short, shaky gasps and found his whole body to be shaking.

"We'll both be needing rest," he reiterated to himself and slipped back inside for whatever amount of sleep he could catch, forgetting the broken glass he had dropped on the balcony.

* * *

AN: Yup, just Satoshi and Daisuke for now. If you want me to follow up with what Dark and Krad are doing, you'll have to leave me a review asking for it. Otherwise, I won't do anything about it and just go to June. I'm so evil. 


	10. A Very Work Free Golden Week

A/N: This is the new chapter you all have been waiting for, and I hope you like it.** CHAPTER NINE HAS A NEW ENDING. Please be sure to check it out.  
**

* * *

Golden week for Krad had actually started on time that year. He'd gotten everything done, or ready to be accomplished in the comfort of his own home, by noon, and continued to hang around the office simply because it was bad form to be the first on to go. So, seeing as he was stuck, he checked his e-mail.

Since it was empty, he checked it again, and this time was rewarded with a message.

_HeY KraD_

_wEn r u GeTtInG hOmE?? R u coOkin 2DaY? WaTs 4 DinEr?_

_dARk_

Krad frowned. Dark had been spending much too long on the internet.

_Dark,_

_I will be home when I am finished with work. It is your turn to cook, so what we have for dinner is entirely up to you. I only ask that you make something I will actually eat this time._

_Thank you in advance,_

_Krad_

He sent the message and like magic, a new one came in.

_kk Y U tAlKin lyk Dat? O.o_

Maybe Americans really were violent, because Krad suddenly had the strong urge to shoot his roommate in the face.

* * *

5 pm had him on the train coming home, 5:03 pm had him asleep on that train, and 5:04 had him jolted awake by mysterious vibrations in his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and read the message. 

_u on ur way yet_

Krad rolled his eyes.

_Yes, I just got on the train. I'll be there in about an hour and a half._

A message came back.

_k_

Krad closed his eyes, leaned back, and fell right back to sleep. When he had first arrived in Japan, he hadn't understood how all those salary-men had been able to sleep through the announcements, rumbling of the train, and constant movement of people, to wake up precisely at the right stop, but now all those distractions were a soothing lullaby. The swaying of the train and the small jolts it made as it traveled down the rail created a fine cross between a swing and a massage chair, and all the background noise drowned out his own thoughts until it was nothing more than a soft melody lulling him to sleep.

He didn't even have to deal with people sitting next to him. The fact that he was white and just plain different from everyone else seemed to automatically turn into a two-foot, Japanese-free radius in which only other foreigners trespassed.

Although sometimes, he forgot he was originally American and was startled to see a foreigner. He'd been surprised by his own reflection before, and had to remind himself that the intimidating outsider in the window was himself.

He woke up just as the train was pulling up to his stop and began to fight his way drowsily to the exit. The train pulled away and he exited the station and hunkered down for the long walk home. If he didn't want to have to pay for gas, and wasn't so against fighting Japanese traffic two ways daily, he'd just take his own car, but that was just too inconvenient. Besides, he didn't even know if there was a place to park near the office.

His phone vibrated.

_u home yet_

Krad didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed.

_No, not yet._

* * *

Krad came home to crashing noises. He was used to hearing such sounds when Dark managed to sneak into the kitchen, but these crashes were different. He slipped off his shoes quietly and slowly deposited his keys in the basket by the door. The noises stopped for a minute and Krad listened for them to start again before retrieving the broom from the closet. He didn't know where Dark was just yet, but if the robber was still there, it could mean Dark was in trouble. It didn't matter too much so long as Dark was still alive. He'd kill whatever bastard dared to invade his apartment. 

He made it to the hall and again, the noises stopped. He froze and listened again. There was a voice and the noises started again. Krad felt the emotion drain from him slowly. Dark's room. The bastard was in Dark's room.

His heart pounded in his ears and his hands felt cold as he reached for the handle. His breathing quickened and adrenaline flushed his system, but he hesitated. He hesitated, and he felt really stupid, because just then, he swore he could hear Dark's voice in all the scuffling. Krad frowned. Dark sounded like he was in pain.

With a shout, Krad flung open the door and charged into the room, to find something he was not expecting.

"Krad! That you?"

"Dark," he knew his roommate was a moron, but this was reaching new levels. "Do you want to tell me how you got stuck like that in the dresser?" Dark's voice was muffled by the thick wood as he was folded up with only his back end sticking out of the spot where the bottom drawer usually went.

"Well, I was reading this Fung Shui book, and–"

"Never mind." Krad decided he really didn't want to know. "Let's just get you out of there."

* * *

It had taken half an hour to get Dark out of the dresser, but only fifteen minutes for the take-out to arrive. They ate, watched a bit of TV, then after Dark took off to see if he could snipe the shower before other residents of their floor got to it, Krad pulled out his laptop. Golden Week or not, he still had work to do. Foreign business associates didn't quite know about the sanctimony of Golden Week, so he had to be prepared to appease them should any problems arise. 

He was halfway through the Power-point he'd be using on Saturday, when a slightly damp hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Krad," suddenly, Krad felt like child caught in the cookie jar except for the fact that work was most definitely not like cookies, "What are you doing?"

He sighed. How to explain this? "Dark, I–"

"Is this work?" Dark crossed his arms and frowned.

"Well, yes, but–"

"Why are you working on Golden Week?"

"Well, technically, it's not Golden Week yet," Krad offered, and Dark reacted to his wittiness by shutting the laptop and snatching it away. "Hey!"

"No work on Golden Week," Dark admonished, then disappeared into his room, taking Krad's laptop with him. Krad just shook his head and leaned back against the couch. He'd get it back later, probably when Dark wanders off somewhere. For now, he figured it would be ok to rest.

Before he knew it, he was asleep on the couch, and Dark, who had slunk back in to make sure he wasn't doing paperwork, chuckled and shook his head.

* * *

The week had been filled with various activities planned mostly by Dark, most of which Krad found enjoyable. Still, he had searched for his laptop every time Dark's back was turned, but could never quite find the damn thing. It was getting a little more than irritating, and he was thankful that he hadn't been called in. Without something to work with, any emergency meeting he would have had to attend would have been a disaster. 

Monday came again as the last day of Golden Week, and Krad had not been able to do a single thing.

Krad shut the door behind him quietly and sat in front of the glowing screen. There was more than one way to get his work done. One window had been left open by Dark–an e-mail account, it looked like–and one of the messages on the front page was something sent to an e-mail address he was familiar with. Krad frowned. _Why would Dark be e-mailing my parents?_ He stared at the screen blankly, not knowing what to do. It was wrong to read Dark's private e-mail, but it had something to do with his parents, therefore had something to do with Krad. He swiveled in the chair, looking to make sure the door was still closed and locked, then moved his hand over the mouse.

Resigning himself, he selected the message.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hikari,_

_I'm just writing you to inform you that we want nothing more to do with you. From here on, you are not to involve yourselves with Krad, and if you disregard my warning, I swear I will make your lives a miserable Hell. You do not own him, you do not control him, and you most certainly do not care for him. Krad does not need you any more, and all you ever do is make his life difficult._

_Any further invasions on out lives will not be dealt with as calmly or civilly as I am doing now. This is the final warning._

_By the way, you both should be proud. Despite all you attempts to fuck him up, Krad managed to rise above you and turn out to be a great guy. You should be glad that at least one member of your gene pool is a decent person. Aren't you just thrilled?_

_Do not respond to this message. We don't care for what it is you have to say._

–_Dark_

Krad read through the letter again, slowly this time, trying to decipher exactly what Dark had thought he was doing. He looked at the date it was sent and leaned back in his chair. Easter. Krad covered his eyes with a hand. Dark had threatened his parents over what happened on Easter. Somehow, he was relieved about the invasion of his privacy, but worried at the same time. How had his parents responded? What had Dark been thinking? Why had Dark even thought to write this? Did his parents actually take the letter to heart?

His mind was brought back to the stress of that day, and he took a long, shaky breath. It was times like these that he wished he had taken up smoking, just so he could have something there to calm his nerves.

He didn't know when Dark had come up behind him, and he didn't really care. He could feel the man standing behind him right that moment, and it was all that mattered. "Why, Dark?"

"Because," Krad relaxed a bit at Dark's tone. He didn't seem the least bit offended at Krad's prying. "You wouldn't tell them off yourself, so I did." Krad slumped in the rolling chair, keeping his eyes securely on the message on the screen. "They were screwing up your head, Krad, and you didn't deserve that."

"Not that." That much Krad had understood on his own. Some parts of Dark's reasoning were very obvious. "Why did you go to all that for me?"

"Oh, that's easy." Krad glanced skeptically over his shoulder, not knowing what was so easy about it. "You're my friend, and I don't want to see you go through all that if you don't have to."

Krad smiled and shook his head, laughter escaping no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. "Dark, you're such an idiot."

"I know." Dark gave a toothy grin, holding up a box of fireworks. "Now why don't we get out of this dark room and have some real fun?"

* * *

For a while, Krad was simply content to watch Dark light the fuse and run away, catching himself on fire and using the explosives in ways not in the instructions. He had a feeling that Dark was making it more dangerous on purpose. It seemed more fun that way. Dark cheered as one mutilated firework went off with a loud boom, laughter echoing across the neighborhood as he ran around barefoot in khaki shorts and a dark T-shirt. The purple-haired man seemed so much like a child at times like these, and Krad was jealous that he could let loose and have fun. 

Dark glanced over at Krad, watching with a distant smile in slacks and a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows. Just running around by himself wasn't good enough. Smirking, he lit the fuse on a spinner, and–ahem–_accidentally_ tossed it in Krad's direction. "Holy shit!" The blond jumped to his feet with a shout and ran out of the path of the burning, moving orb of color and pain, half-way in the street before the thing stopped chasing him. "Dark! You ass-hole!"

Dark threw another at him.

This one didn't follow him, and Krad armed himself with explosives. With a sneer, hit lit a few and pitched them in Dark's direction, and the man dodged with maniacal laughter. "You can't get me, Krad!"

"You wanna bet?" Krad lit the match and readied a few more.

"Yeah, I'll bet!" Dark stuck out his tongue, and the game began. Looking up, he saw two familiar faces on a balcony and in the back of his mind, wished them a belated Happy Golden Week.

* * *

A/N: This ended a lot happier than the last chapter, so maybe it'll make up for it. The next episode if for June and I'm trying to decide if I want to do the thing I was thinking of for June or July. After that, it shouldn't be too long, ok? Well, review and have a nice day. 


End file.
